


Locked in Stone

by Ramtops_Witch



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9351791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramtops_Witch/pseuds/Ramtops_Witch
Summary: Merlin totally shouldn’t have gotten away with what he did in the season 1 finale.





	

“I willingly give my life for Arthur’s.”

The priestess smiled.  
***

 

Uther froze at the sight of a blue cloaked figure bending over his son. Morgana’s maidservant sat in a chair beside the bed, staring unblinkingly into space, obviously bewitched. “Nimueh.” What more could she do when his boy was dying?

“Uther.” She tucked a flask into her cloak, and disappeared. Arthur stirred. The girl started, and blinked confusedly at him. Uther had not a care for her, but swore his heart skipped a beat. What had that witch done? Arthur opened his eyes.

And then closed them with a groan. “Guh. Someone put out the sun.”  
***

 

Merlin was missing. He’d been mortally wounded, laid up for days at end, everyone had begun to mourn, and Merlin couldn’t even show up to fuss over him properly. Er. Wait on him. And chase away overly concerned nobles. Finally fed up Arthur had made his (embarrassingly shaky) way to Gaius’s rooms.

“Alright Merlin, enough of this, time to get back to—” Arthur froze awkwardly half inside the room. And tried his hardest to pretend he hadn’t seen Gaius (GAIUS!) crying. For about five seconds. Until his brain connected Missing Merlin and Crying Gaius and came up with NO. “What did he do?” It had to be. Perhaps Merlin had just… gone…home?

Gaius looked up, surprised. “Sire. I’m sorry. I…didn’t hear you come in.”

“Where is Merlin?” Arthur demanded in as regal tone as he could manage whilst listing more than a little sideways. His eyes still looked about the room, as if the man had simply been misplaced somewhere, like a lost article of clothing.

“To save a life another life must be given in return. That is the Old Way.” Gaius stared down at his clasped hands. “Merlin is gone. You will need to find a new manservant.” He continued on tonelessly, “You should lie down sire; you’re not well enough yet. It’s a miracle you—”

“Survived at all. I know. You said Merlin was gone, do you mean back to Ealdor?” He couldn’t mean… Merlin wouldn’t. Wouldn’t go and… alright he had willingly drunk poison for Arthur, and had shown a willingness to do it again, but he wouldn’t be so…stupid as to enter a pact with some hellish creature, to pledge his life and soul so that Arthur might live. Gaius…said things…they didn’t always make sense. He was old. Merlin was fine. He had to be. Merlin was always fine, and if he wasn’t, Arthur could save him. That was how it worked.

Gaius returned his gaze to his hands. “Perhaps.”

“Where. Did. He. Go?” Arthur demanded, enunciating each word. He had never raised his voice to Gaius. There were certain things you did not do, even if you were Crown Prince of Camelot, one was to yell at a man who had been patient and old, even as you were toddling around unable to tell one end of a knife from another.

“If I tell you do you promise not to go haring off after him?” 

“Yes.” He would just send his knights.

“He went to the Isle of the Blessed.”

Arthur didn’t remember any of the islands on his map named that. It couldn’t be very large. Easy to find little lost manservants on. Weird time to find religion. Merlin never could do things the easy way.  
***

 

Arthur’s knights did not return for three days. He waited for them by his window. Ordered to stay in his room, but this at least he could do. Morgana sat by her own. Crying. She ate only thin porridge given to her by Guinevere and spoke to the empty air, assuring it that all would be over soon and that she wouldn’t sleep.

The third day, at sunset, the knights returned. Slung across Sir Bedivere’s saddle was something wrapped in the knights’ cloaks. They presented it to Arthur on bended knee. “We found him pinned to an ash tree with a spear. He was already dead by the time we arrived.” Bedivere addressed the flagstones.

Arthur unwrapped Merlin, examined the bloodless skin, pressed his hand to the cool skin. Brushed the stiff hair back off of his forehead; then removed his hand, clenching it at his side, “I forbid you to be dead.” He informed the still figure. “I know you’re crap at following orders, but…Who told you to do this! What gave you the right to—”

“Do you mind not shouting quite so loud? My head hurts.”

Silence. Clatter.

“He. He was dead. We checked. We carried him here with narry a stir. He was absolutely dead.”

“You must have been mistaken.” Arthur informed him with a glare.

“Oh no. I was in the land of the Dead.” Merlin assured him, giving the knight a smile, as if the knight being correct about Merlin being dead was something to be congratulated. This would probably have been more comforting if the smile hadn’t been clearly deranged

“Men don’t come back from the dead.” Arthur insisted. “You were delirious.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want people to think I’m a demon." Arthur didn't remember Merlin's eyes being so wide. That was a sign of poisoning, wasn't it?

"Demon. Divided? Spirit? Bright and shining? What is a demon? If I am a demon then what is a human?” He stared at Sir Marsell as if he might answer, but gave him no chance to, “or made a deal with one or something. But it’s not going to do any good. They’ll take me away and lock me in stone. I’ve swum in the river that divides the living from the dead. I hung for nine days from the Tree of the World. I have been to the future, and the past. I was there when you were born, and when you die. I tried, but a pebble thrown into a raging sea may make waves, but no one will notice. I tried Arthur.” He was staring earnestly at Arthur now, looking for all the kingdom like he didn’t realize he was talking utter nonsense. And rather like he was explaining something important to a very stupid person who refused to understand. Arthur was rather insulted.

“Hush. I know you did. You’ve had a hard time and you need to see Gaius. It’s okay Merlin. You’re here. You’re safe and we’ll fix you.” Arthur’s hands were clenched painfully tight on Merlin’s shoulders.

“They will incase me in stone no matter how I scream, and the kingdom will fall to ruin. I will be carried off by barbarians, trapped and still screaming, until the True King of Britain frees me. Sword in the stone.” He giggled. It was…disconcerting. Men don’t do that. No one should ever giggle like that.

“The hell? What’s Britain? And don’t be an idiot, you’re raving.” Arthur was aware that there was the slightest bit of desperation evident in his voice. His manservant had been…injured or something. Poisoned himself perhaps, through stupidity. And his raving could get him killed if he wasn’t careful. Uther was not a very open minded man, and a mad witch was just as good for killing as a sane one. But he wouldn’t hurt Merlin surely, he wouldn’t. Arthur wouldn’t let him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Back on familiar ground. “You should be. Morgana has been worried out of her mind, I had to put up with inadequate servants, while I was convalescing and you were off gallivanting—”

“The sun will shine without the moon. But the light will be lost in the darkness and the land will burn and freeze. The dead cannot rise, but those sent to the land of the Dead that have not been killed are not dead. Unless they fail. If you eat the food, drink the water. If you flinch. You’re dead.” He giggled. “Blink and you’re dead.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Almost certainly. I have both of my eyes. I see. I look and I see. Things. You. With both eyes. I gave not an eye, not my voice, not an arm. I gave not my soul, my heart. You. They took.” Merlin pulled one of the discarded cloaks tight around himself and looked beseechingly up at Arthur. “They reached inside and they took him. They took the boy who played by the bank and came back to his mother so covered in mud that she screamed. Monster. Not my son. Not.” He shivered and moved closer so that he could wrap his arms around Arthur’s neck and lay his head against Arthur’s chest, speaking into the fabric of his shirt. “Took. They. They. He. She. I. Me. I took. I gave. Not a boy. Not any more. I can see with my eyes and I think it’s real, but what know I? I saw great beasts of metal flying through the air. I saw the sun explode, die. Said that.” He giggled again. Like he’d made a joke that only he understood. “What know I? Crazy, crazy old Merlin. Not old. No. Yes? Stone. Locked in stone. Am I stone? Am I in the stone? No. Arthur’s here. Everything’s okay when Arthur’s here.” He pulled back suddenly and stared at Arthur with wide, terrified eyes. “Are you here? Am I…Am I imagining you?”

“Merlin—”

“Hush.” Merlin touched Arthur’s cheek gently, fingers sliding over Arthur’s mouth to still his lips. “They’re here. No fighting, you’ll get hurt. Thank Morgana for me, please.”

The door flew open.


End file.
